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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22437037">Blood Buddies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deekha/pseuds/Deekha'>Deekha</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Gay, Gay Rights, M/M, POV Lesbian Character, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Why Did I Write This?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 10:33:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22437037</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deekha/pseuds/Deekha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Twilight was gay?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blood Buddies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <em>Chapter 1: First Sight</em>
</h1><p>My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in<br/>
Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite sweater — long, thick, and covering every inch of skin that didn't constitute my hands or face; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. I didn't bother with a carry-on.<br/>
<br/>
In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a<br/>
near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the<br/>
United States of America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother<br/>
escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead.</p><p>It was to Forks that I now exiled myself— an action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks.<br/>
<br/>
I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city.<br/>
<br/>
"Bella," my mom said to me — the last of a thousand times — before I got on the plane. "You don't have to do this."<br/>
<br/>
My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt a stone in the pit of my stomach as I stared into her saddened eyes. How could I do this to her? I've made her a victim in my own self-destructive choice. It's not like she'd be completely alone, there was always Phil; nonetheless, it was a cut on her skin that bled every time she subtly tried to beg me to stay.<br/>
<br/>
"I want to go," I lied. I'd always been a pretty good liar, but my mother knew me better than to know that I really meant it. She also knew me better than to outright try to convince me otherwise.<br/>
<br/>
"Tell Charlie I said hi."<br/>
<br/>
"Will do."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll see you soon," she insisted. "You can come home whenever you want — I'll come right back as soon as you need me."<br/>
<br/>
I could see the hope in her eyes behind the promise.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry about me," I urged. "It'll be great. I love you, Mom."<br/>
<br/>
She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone.<br/>
It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I was a little worried about.<br/>
<br/>
Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car.<br/>
<br/>
But it was sure to be awkward with Charlie. Neither of us was what anyone would call verbose, and I<br/>
didn't know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision — like my mother before me, I hadn't made a secret of my distaste for Forks.</p><p>When I finally landed in Port Angeles, the humidity felt like I had dove into a pool. The moisture in the air clung to my skin even through my clothes. It was as if someone a thousand years ago had started a cold shower and left the door open, letting all the mist and cold ventilate through the whole state. The air was thicker and harder to breathe. I had forgotten how much of the reason I hated Forks also applied to the rest of Washington.</p><p>On the other side of the TSA checkpoint, a tall mustachioed man gave me a dry smile and waved me over. "Hey, Dad." I looked past him and saw his police cruiser outside. Police Chief Charlie Swan leaned down to awkwardly wrap an arm around me. "Hey, kid. How was the flight?" He asked, trying to be polite. I could see how pained he was to start a conversation, so I kept it brief. "Oh, yeah, it was fine. I got some in-flight peanuts." I held up a pack of half-eaten, unsalted peanuts. "They were three bucks and pretty gross." I gave a half-hearted laugh to try and break the tension. It didn't work.</p><p>I retrieved my bags from the baggage claim, which only ended up being a rolling suitcase and a small bag that slotted nicely on top. I packed light— probably a bad idea, but I didn't want to be reminded of anything back home. Knowing me I'd already be comparing everything about this grey town to sunny Phoenix. Having possessions from back home would really only be making things worse. Charlie tried to help with the suitcases, awkwardly reaching down and looking up at me questioningly before reaching back up and putting his hands in his pockets.</p><p>The drive to Forks went about as well as I'd imagined. Twenty minutes into the drive he'd tried to make small talk. "You got a boyfriend back in Phoenix?" He asked, though his voice betrayed the fact that he really didn't want to know and was just trying to start a conversation. "Uhhh, no, I don't." The car went silent for a moment before he piped back up. "Well, I'm sure you'll make plenty of friends here. I only have one rule for the house. No boys upstairs. I don't know how your mother ran things down in Phoenix, but I'm sure this isn't a rule you've never heard before." He looked over, trying to judge by my face whether he'd been too stern in laying down the ground rules. "I don't think that'll be a problem. No boys upstairs." The rest of the car ride was deafeningly silent.</p><p>We pulled into the driveway next to a cherry red pickup truck. The outside looked plenty sturdy— it was one of those old cars that were made of pure metal. If you got into a car accident you may not make it out, but your car probably won't even transfer paint. Charlie caught me inspecting it and chimed in, "You remember Billy Black? Used to work with him. He lives down in La Push?" I shrugged.</p><p>"Well, he offered this baby to you. He's been working on it for years but didn't have much to do with it since his accident."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know how to fix this thing if it breaks down are you sure—"</p><p>"Oh, this old thing could survive a bomb. The engine runs like new."<br/>
<br/>
I looked at it for a moment, trying to picture myself inside before turning back and giving my best fake smile to Charlie. It wasn't like I didn't appreciate it, there was just nothing that anybody could do to make me enjoy this town. Charlie, however, didn't need to know that.<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks, Dad. I love it. I really appreciate you doing this for me."<br/>
<br/>
Charlie looked down and kicked some rocks in the driveway, clearly unsure how to process the appreciation. He finally looked back up from under the brim of his sheriff's hat and gave a thumbs up. He quickly exited the situation by reaching into the back seat of his cruiser, pulling out my bags and carrying them into the house.</p><p>My room was exactly as I remembered it. The walls were painted a pastel pink and the translucent curtains matched. Everything else was white— a perfectly stereotypical room for an eight-year-old girl. I looked out my back window and the entire scene was green. The house sat in a small clearing about thirty feet in all directions around the house, nestled between thick, dense forests of evergreens. It would have been beautiful if there were any sun to make the trees glow in emerald brilliance. Instead, there were clouds.</p><p>If I had any sort of physical strength or athleticism, hiking through those trees might actually be a lot of fun. Instead, I was pale, lanky, and had two left feet. I looked like a wind chime wished to be a real girl. Even in one of the hottest, sunniest states in the United States, I still found it impossible to shake my ivory— nearly translucent— skin. It was a cyclical problem: I couldn't play sports because I was a twig with pants and I couldn't do something easier like jogging because I was too pale and I burned. Not to mention the fact that I walked like a rottweiler puppy— too small for my own feet. I constantly tripped over my own shoes and stepped on my own toes.</p><p>For that reason and many others varying from easy to pinpoint to borderline cosmic mystery, I was unable to really connect with anyone. Even my mom who was just like me never really understood the way I saw things. It was like my eyes had been made without the last ingredient that let me "get it". That or I had an ingredient nobody else had and I saw more than anyone else did.</p><p>I went to sleep early that night: partly because I was exhausted from the flight and the car ride, but also because I didn't know what else to do. I laid in my bed for hours, staring up at the ceiling, connecting the dots in my vision as the dim, cloudy light outdoors became dimmer and greyer. Eventually, I got tired of inventing new constellations in my ceiling and closed my eyes. I fell asleep easily, though the night was restless and full of "wake up sitting up and sweating"-type nightmares. They were all about the same thing.</p><p>Unlike Phoenix, sunrises in Forks aren't orange and beautiful. Instead, they're like spilling orange juice on dirty cotton balls and desperately trying to cover your mess by adding additional dirty cotton balls. I threw on a sweater and jeans— the height of fashion— and tied my hair up. Downstairs, Charlie was standing over the stove. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned around and handed me a plate. <br/>
<br/>
"Heard you get up and thought it might be nice to have a hearty breakfast before your first day. Then I remembered I haven't cooked breakfast since before you were born..." He trailed off. The arrangement was cute. Two burnt eggs and a few undercooked slices of bacon arranged in a smiley face on the plate. "Thanks." I sat down at the table and picked at the food. I wasn't all that hungry, but I'd have felt bad if he'd put all this work into it and I didn't at least try it. Charlie stood over by the counter and sipped his coffee, absent-mindedly watching as I ate. </p><p>I grabbed my backpack and handed the rest of what I didn't eat to Charlie. "Thanks, Dad." As I walked out the door, I heard him sit down and try a bite. It was quiet, but I was pretty sure he'd said: "Damn, this sucks."</p><p>The whole of Forks is pretty much one stretch of road that goes for a couple of miles, then turns into either La Push on one end or wilderness on the other. The drive only took ten or so minutes, but in the city, it would have taken forever. There are very few cars in Forks, as the town only consists of about four thousand people total— a bit bigger than my old school. The main road, Forks Avenue, was lined with restaurants desperately trying to imitate the larger chains that refused to do business out here given the middle-of-nowhere quality of the town. Every few buildings were also some sort of inn or memorabilia store themed around some movie that was shot here. From what I understood, it wasn't very good, but it had a cult-like following. I somehow doubted they got much business though.</p><p>The road was cracked and old, making the trip rough. I didn't mind, though. It kept me awake and alert since the sun didn't seem to want to help with that here. I'd washed up before leaving, but I could still feel where the sweat had clung to my skin the night before. I had nightmares fairly often. At home, they didn't really wake me at night. I was usually able to sleep through them. Here it was different.</p><p>I pulled up to the front of the school where the office was to pick up my schedule. To the side of the school, some of the earlier students were already finding parking spots in the student lot. I hopped out of my car and walked inside a door just off the side from the main entrance. In the office was a woman sitting behind an old wooden desk you'd expect to house a teacher. Instead, there was a bespectacled woman with thick curly hair reading a book.</p><p>"Hello, excuse me?" I said, meekly.</p><p>She looked up from her book and smiled. "Can I help you?"</p><p>"Yeah, I'm a new student here. Isabella Swan?"</p><p>Her eyes lit up as if I was a courier she was expecting a gift from that had just arrived at her doorstep.</p><p>"Oh, Miss Swan! I have your paperwork right here." She handed me a small stack of papers. "In there is a map of the campus, your schedule, the student code of conduct, and a copy of the syllabus from each of your teachers."</p><p>"Thanks." I looked at the stack of papers as if she'd handed me a diaper full of shit, shit-side down.</p><p>"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Unlike the staff at any school I'd ever been to, she genuinely seemed happy to help.</p><p>"No, that's all, thanks."</p><p>I left the office and hopped back into my car. The student lot was beginning to fill, but the flow of cars had begun to trickle as there weren't many cars to begin with. A lot of the cars looked like mine thankfully— antiques that have been slowly kept on life support for decades by skilled backyard-mechanics and a wish. I parked and went inside, trying desperately trying to decipher the poorly made map I was given. Eventually, I found my first class and approached the teacher's desk, handing him one of the papers I was given.</p><p>"Hey, I'm new here."</p><p>He looked down at the paper and flinched like he'd been hit with a flashback. "Swan, huh? You're Charlie's girl?"</p><p>I sheepishly grinned, "The one and only."</p><p>He looked past my eyes, trying to judge something behind them, but seemingly gave up and smiled genuinely. "Welcome to Forks, Isabella."</p><p>"Bella is fine."</p><p>"Welcome to Forks, Bella."</p><p>"Thanks, you too," I said and immediately turned bright red. I spun on my heels and hid my face as I found a seat.</p><p>The class was boring. I got the feeling that at least for a few weeks I'd be relearning things I'd already learned at my other school. Nonetheless, I pretended to take notes and follow along. The rest of my classes followed the same pattern. Each one I'd meet someone who'd try to be my friend and help me get to my next class where I would then promptly forget their names.</p><p>Lunch finally rolled around, slicing my schedule right down the middle— a welcome break from hours of rehashing and trying to be nice despite how miserable it was in Forks. A few of the people who had tried to befriend me in class waved me over. I sat at the end of the table, the others scooching to make room. From that point the conversation continued as before, occasionally one of them asked what Phoenix was like, which I dodged the question each time. I didn't want to think about Phoenix.</p><p>From the corner of my eye, I noticed a thick posse of black-clad students who looked about my age walk in. They each had dark eyes with sallow features and dark hair. They were all beautiful. One of the girls at the table noticed me staring and invited herself to my internal conversation— which was well enough, I probably wouldn't have asked otherwise.</p><p>"Those are the Cullens. I think they're all adopted by Dr. Cullen at the clinic? Anyway, they're not all related. I think Jasper and Alice even dated at one point? I know Emmet and Rosaline are together. I personally think it's kinda weird to date an adopted sibling, but they were dating before they were adopted so I guess that's better—"</p><p>I stopped listening and watched as they all gracefully strutted to a table and all sat together. Their movements were fluid like dancers, each step choreographed perfectly with one another. That's when I saw her. Taking her seat right beside the less buff of the two boys was this girl. Her hair was cropped short and her eyes were stunning. Her lips formed a perfect arc on her cupid's bow and her smile made my heart ache. She was short, probably one of the shortest people I'd personally seen. She looked like a goth Tinkerbelle, but her eyes and smile made her look like a goddess.</p><p>I hadn't realized I'd been staring until the girl who'd spoken before noticed my gaze and smiled. "That over there is Edward Cullen. He's got every girl's heart here, but he refuses to date. Apparently he thinks none of the girls here are pretty enough for him..."</p><p>"Who's the girl next to him? The one with the short hair?"</p><p>"Oh, Alice? She's the only really social one of the family. She's sweet, but she always has this...energy? Like, she knows something you don't."</p><p><em>Alice.</em> My head was swimming. Her name tasted so sweet on my tongue and my chest burned like I was having a panic attack, but it didn't hurt. It was nice. Warm, even.</p><p>She didn't meet my gaze, but Edward did. His eyes burned with disgust at me. I quickly averted my gaze. The others at the table continued talking about gossip and whatnot, but my mind was stuck on Alice. Alice Cullen. My thoughts were interrupted by the loud buzzing of the school bell ushering us to our next class. </p><p>One of the boys from the lunch table whose name I couldn't remember helped me to my next class. The usual desks were replaced by tables, each wide enough for two students. At one of the tables was Edward Cullen. He refused to meet my gaze, but he covered his face as if he was trying to subtly block a foul smell. He leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room, sitting practically on the edge of his seat. I tried not to take it personally as I handed the paperwork to the teacher and introduced myself once again. After introductions, he pointed me to the empty seat beside Edward. I sighed and plopped myself beside him. He cowered away from me, scooting closer to the wall and balling his fists so tight that his knuckles turned white. I tried not to be offended, but it was getting harder. I let my hair down, creating a little barrier to shield my face.</p><p>I pretended to listen in class again, but every so often I'd peek over at Edward to find he was still trying to shy away from me like I was toxic. As soon as the bell rang he was on his feet and out the door. I failed to not take it personally.</p><p>The rest of my classes were spent thinking about Alice and her eyes and slender frame. She looked like a gymnast— thin but hiding muscle beneath the surface. I tried hard not to imagine what that would look like. After school, I walked out to my car and sat in the driver's seat until my hands stopped shaking. I took a deep breath and calmed myself down. I didn't know why this was happening. She was just some girl. She wasn't special. There were plenty of gorgeous girls in the world. That girl was different though. I put my truck in reverse and backed out. On the drive home, the road didn't keep me focused.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey! This concept was introduced to me via Tumblr by some users I can't remember. I'll put links to all their stuff at the end of the next chapter. Anyway, this first chapter here follows the original Twilight pretty closely, but things will start to diverge pretty quickly as the differences begin to create a butterfly effect. Basically, stay tuned! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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